


Subversion

by SailorChibi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Play, Anger, Angst, Corporal Punishment, Crying, Cuddling, Daddy!Cas, Dean Needs A Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Gen, Headspace, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, Lack of Communication, Little!Dean, Non-Sexual Age Play, Protective Castiel, Season 9, Self Harm, Spanking, Sub Drop, Winchester Brothers - Freeform, breakdown - Freeform, form of sub drop, slipping into a headspace, words are important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 16:38:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2355263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Furious at Dean for what happened with Gadreel, Sam wants a way to even the odds a little between them. But between his own misunderstanding and Dean's stubbornness, Sam might just have broken his own brother. Fortunately, he can call on an angel for back up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Subversion

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from; that's my defense.

"You know what the problem with you is, Dean? You're so fucking stubborn, like a little kid that doesn't want to admit they're wrong. Maybe I should just go ahead and spank you like Cas used to. God knows that's the only thing that ever seemed to actually knock some sense into you."

The words were out before Sam realized that he was going to say them, and because of that it took him a few seconds to realize exactly what he had just said. Guilt was quick on the heels of that realization, because that was something he had never meant to let Dean know that he knew about. He rocked back a little bit, suddenly glad that he was already standing by the wall for support, stunned that the one of the few secrets he had been keeping for years had come out in an explosion of anger and frustration. 

But he was just so _tired_. No matter how many times he attempted to explain the situation to Dean, it was like trying to talk to a brick wall. Dean was steadfast in his refusal to see anything from Sam's perspective, and any attempts to make him see otherwise just resulted in Dean reiterating that he would make the same choice if the situation were to happen a second time. It was seriously pissing Sam off, to the point where if it weren't for the fact that they needed to be battle ready, there would've been a serious fight between them.

Dean turned dead white, his eyes widening as Sam's words hit him and registered. Then, incredibly, he blushed so hard his freckles practically disappeared. "What - how did - that's not -"

"Oh let it go," Sam growled, shaking his head and refusing to let the tiny spark of guilt get to him. He was out of ideas and if this didn't make Dean listen, then Sam didn't even know if he wanted to be around his brother anymore. "I saw you guys ages ago, Dean. So don't even try to pretend."

"And you..." Dean trailed off, seemingly having trouble stringing together what he wanted to say.

Sam folded his arms and just stared at him, not willing to help him out. As far as he was concerned, the day he'd almost walked in on Cas and Dean was something he usually tried to forget. It was bad enough seeing Dean in the middle of sex, but seeing him splayed over the lap of their angel with his bare ass in the air while Cas _spanked_ him... Well, it suggested a lot more about his brother's sex life than Sam was comfortable knowing about. 

But at the same time, it was hard to forget how looser and more at ease Dean had been the next morning. Maybe if it happened again, he would be more willing to _listen_.

Swallowing with visible difficulty, Dean ducked his head a little and eyed him. "That's... you want to... hit me."

"If I could punch you, I would have. Unfortunately, we don't have the time for that right now," Sam snapped. Honestly he wasn't sure he could stop if he started punching Dean. "Not with angels and demons on our asses. Cas doesn't have the grace to waste a healing on that scale. At least it's an area that can take a lot of punishment, even if I would risk hurting your brain."

It was a cruel dig at Dean's intelligence and Sam knew it, but Dean didn't let on like he even heard. His expression was briefly conflicted before it smoothed out into the poker face that Sam was all too familiar with. After all, he had spent years cultivating one that was similar if not identical. It was the patented Winchester 'I will not let anyone know I am in possession of emotions' face and it was pissing Sam off to see it right now. The least Dean could do was take this seriously.

"I mean it, Dean," he went on. "If you can't prove to me that you're at least a little sorry, I can't even work with you as a partner. I -"

"Alright," Dean interrupted tersely, his shoulders stiff. "Fine. You wanna whip my ass, I don't care."

He stomped out of the room and Sam scowled as he followed automatically, hardly able to believe this was happening. He made a quick stop before tracking Dean down, not surprised to find that Dean had chosen neutral territory: a sparebedroom that didn't have much more than a rickety, old bed that had definitely seen better days. Dean was already pulling his belt through his jeans, dropping it on the floor. He unzipped his jeans and pushed them down too, leaving him in just his boxers.

"Those too," Sam said coldly. He'd seen his brother's naked ass enough times that he might as well get some satisfaction from it this time.

Dean glared at him, and for a second Sam thought he might not follow through with it. But then he dropped his boxers, leaving him bare from the waist down. He turned away from Sam and planted his hands on the end of the mattress, spreading his legs for balance. The hem of his shirt rode up a little, showing the bottom of his spine and leaving the pale flesh of his buttocks and thighs as a target.

There was something immensely satisfying about that, and now that Dean's back was turned Sam pulled out the hairbrush he'd stopped in his room for. He'd found it in one of the storage rooms on a lazy day in between hunts and decided to keep it amidst much teasing from Dean and Kevin. It was made from thick, solid oak and had a good, hefty feel in his hands. Even if he'd never actually used it to brush his hair, he'd liked the sight of it on his dresser.

And now he had an excellent use for it.

"You should know," Sam said as he came up behind his brother. "I'm not whipping your ass, Dean. I'm spanking you like the spoiled, rueful kid you are."

He let loose with the first blow, smacking the back of the brush squarely against the seat of Dean's butt. The impact of wood against flesh made a surprisingly loud sound and Sam winced even as a curl of approval rushed through him. He pulled the hairbrush back and looked appraisingly at the pale pink splotch that had appeared. That was a nice start, but clearly Dean would be able to take stronger blows than that. He wouldn't have to hold back. _Finally_ he would be able to work out some of his frustration, until Dean was in a better position to understand just how violated and upset Sam was feeling.

John Winchester had never hit his children, but he had resorted to spanking when necessary. Sam could clearly remember squirming over his father's lap as that big hand rained down on his buttocks over and over again until John decided he had learned his lesson. And he also remembered how much worse it was when John didn't just hit the same spot over and over, but varied his blows so that Sam could never be certain of just where the next one would be. Would it be the same place, or would it be somewhere else that might hurt just as much?

He employed that strategy now, steadily turning the skin in front of him pale pink, and then taking it into a deeper pinkish red that had to sting. His arm rose and fell methodically, and although he didn't count the blows he knew that he had to be nearing the hundreds. He was glad that he had stopped to pick up the hairbrush, as he knew that the flesh of his hand would be throbbing by now if he hadn't. Using the brush was a lot easier, even if his arm was beginning to get tired from the up and down movement.

Through it all Dean never moved an inch, though his hands had long since curled into fists and his knuckles were turning white. His head was bowed and he was breathing slowly through the pain. It wasn't enough, though, wasn't the reaction that Sam really wanted to see, and that's what finally made Sam stop. This wasn't working. Both of them were old hats at taking physical punishment, and a spanking from Sam didn't seem to be making a difference. 

He let out a snort of disgust and threw the brush on the bed, lifting his hands and running them through his hair. Dean didn't move, and Sam said wearily, "Enough, dude. Pull your pants up. This was a stupid idea, and I've got research to do."

He started to turn away but stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a very soft sound. Impossibly enough, he could have sworn that it was a sob. But this was Dean, and his brother never cried unless there was serious shit going down. Even when John used to spank them, Dean was all about the angry defiance. He'd go over John's knee, sure, but he'd take every smack with a bitten lip and focused eyes that didn't let on for a split second that he was in pain at all.

Sam told himself that he was hearing things, but his feet moved of their own accord and carried him back around the bed. What he saw shocked him to his very core. Dean _was_ crying. Had been for a while if the tear tracks and snot on his upper lip were any indication. His head was still bowed, but now that Sam was paying attention he could see that Dean was trembling in spite of his best efforts to keep still.

"Dean?" Sam said, unable to keep the incredulous note from his voice, and Dean flinched.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, the words hitting Sam like a five ton of bricks. Dean's voice was so small, and his eyes were wet with unshed tears when he looked up at Sam. He was starting to shake harder now, words tumbling out like he wasn't even aware of what he was saying. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry -"

"Dean," Sam repeated, dumbstruck, because he didn't know what else to say. Something was happening to Dean and he didn't know what it was, but he had the horrifying feeling that he might have been the cause of it. He tried to play it off, saying, "Man, you're freaking me out. If this is your way of trying to make me forgive you, it's not going to work. Like I said, I have research to do."

"Sorry." Dean's knees dropped and he collapsed against the bed, hiding his face, though it did little to muffle the non-stop stream of apologies he was still spouting off. He curled up, seemingly uncaring that he was still half-naked and that his freshly spanked ass was pressed against carpet, and started to rock back and forth. His nails were digging into his arms so hard that Sam could see blood welling up, and now he was starting to gasp for breath between stuttered word.

"Dean, stop it!" Sam knelt and reached for his arms, but Dean yanked away and wailed. It was the only word to describe it, and the sound chilled Sam through. He backed off quickly, hands held up, and watched as Dean started to rock faster.

"Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry"

"Oh god." His alarm growing, because apparently he'd done what 40 years in hell couldn't and broken Dean Winchester, Sam fumbled his phone out and called the one person that he thought might have an answer. Never in his life had he prayed more fervently for Cas to pick up his phone, and when he heard a faint click and that gravelly tone he couldn't help thanking an absent God.

"Hello?"

"Cas, something's wrong with Dean."

"Sam? What's wrong? Where are you?"

"The bunker. I..." Sam trailed off, suddenly realizing how hard this might be to put into words.

"Sam?" Cas prodded. 

"I saw you spanking Dean once and I was so mad at him that I said I should do the same thing to knock some sense into him and Dean agreed and now he's crying and he won't stop apologizing," Sam blurted out in a rush.

Cas was quiet for a few seconds, like he was sorting through everything Sam had said. Then he swore. It was loud and detailed enough to leave Sam blinking a little, because he had never heard Cas curse like that before. His heart started pounding even harder and he risked a glance at Dean, who now had blood streaming down his arms in thin rivulets. It dribbled off his wrists and onto the carpet, but Dean didn't seem to notice.

"Sam, I am coming to the bunker right now. I am only about half an hour away. Do not leave Dean alone, but don't touch him, do you understand?"

"But -"

"Do not touch him," Cas _growled_ , and even though he wasn't technically an angel anymore something in Sam still wanted to roll over and go belly up for that tone of voice.

"O-okay, I won't." 

If he was expecting more instruction, Sam didn't get it. The dial tone was all he heard. He slowly let his arm drop and looked back to Dean. He didn't have a clue as to what was going on. Several quiet minutes went by, broken only by Dean's incessant whispering, and finally Sam couldn't take it anymore.

"Dean, I called Cas," he said slowly, because Cas hadn't said not to talk to him.

Dean froze. Then, for the first time since he had curled up, he looked at Sam. There was something weirdly childlike about him when he whispered, "Daddy?"

What? _Daddy_? Sam furrowed his eyebrows, struggling to figure out where the hell that had come from. "Dad's dead, Dean. You know that."

As soon as he saw the look on Dean's face, he regretted saying that. It was pure devastation. Dean let out another wail and grabbed at his hair, seemingly intent on ripping out chunks of it. Sam lunged forward and grabbed his wrists before he could do so, but Dean fought against him like a wild thing. He was still screaming, his words now barely audible through his uncontrollable sobs, and every word that Sam could make out only made him even more confused.

"My fault, I made him leave, Daddy, sorrysorrysorrysorry _daddy_ sorrysorrysorry"

"Dean, stop it!" Sam had to shout to be heard above Dean, but he didn't think it was doing any good. Dean was hysterical, but not in a way that he could understand, and he didn't know what to say to bring him out of it. He grappled with Dean for a couple of minutes, surprised by the strength his brother was capable of when he was so upset.

"Dean!"

Over the sound of their battle, Sam had not heard the door to the Bunker opening. Nor had he heard Cas's footsteps running towards them. He turned his head as Cas appeared in the doorway, the momentary distraction allowing Dean to wrench himself away. Instantly Dean grabbed at his arms again, tearing more chunks of flesh out with his nails instead of going for his hair. 

"Oh Dean," Cas said again, a look of unbearable sadness on his face as he regarded the two of them. He crossed the space between them so quickly that Sam had to wonder if he'd regained his wings, dropping to his knees in front of Dean. "Baby, shh. It's okay. Daddy's right here."

What. The. Fuck.

Sam's brain screeched to a grinding halt as he watched Cas speak to his brother, repeating those same words over and over without touching Dean, until they finally got through. It was easy to see the moment when they penetrated and Dean realized that Cas was there. The horrible string of apologies finally stopped, though the crying didn't, and he turned his head to stare at Cas with disbelief that warred with hope.

"Daddy?" he asked in that tiny voice.

"It's me, little one." Cas didn't hesitate, sweeping Dean into an embrace that was so tight it had to hurt. Dean clung to him and started sobbing all over again, and Cas rocked him back and forth and stroked his hair and rubbed his hand up and down Dean's back. 

"Cas..." Sam's voice returned without his permission, and he could tell that Cas had forgotten he was there. The angel pinned him with a cold look that made Sam want to squirm.

"Please leave us, Sam."

Sam wanted to protest, but that look was accepting no arguments. Numbly, he rose to his feet and padded out of the room. He hovered in the hallway, uncertain as to what he was supposed to do next, and was surprised when Cas appeared about fifteen minutes later. He was carrying Dean in his arms like a small child, the hand supporting Dean's lower half carefully placed so as not to put undue pressure on his ass. They turned in the opposite direction, towards the other bedrooms.

He stared after them for a long moment, still feeling blank. He had no idea what the hell was going on. Why was Dean calling Cas "Daddy"? Why was he crying like that? Obviously he had missed something pretty major, but he wasn't sure what it was or how he was supposed to go about figuring it out. He clenched his jaw with frustration and headed for the library, guessing that his presence would not be well received in the bedrooms right now.

Research didn't seem to be nearly as interesting. His mind kept playing back over Dean's words and the way he'd clawed at himself. He was pretty sure Dean hadn't been apologizing to him, mostly because he didn't think Dean was even aware that he was there. Sam was still pissed at his brother, but the look in Dean's eyes... it broke his heart. He never wanted to see Dean look like that again if he could help it. 

He'd read the same book three times and still hadn't processed a word of it by the time that Cas appeared. Sam straightened up when the angel walked in and set his book aside, his curiosity surging to the surface in full force. He had so many questions he hardly knew where to begin, but that wasn't what kept him quiet. Cas had that smite-y aura around him, the one that strongly suggested he was going to smite the next thing that pissed him off, and Sam wasn't sure that he wasn't already first in line.

Cas took a seat at the table, not even bothering to pretend to slouch the way he usually did, and said without preamble, "The spanking you once witnessed between me and Dean did not have sexual connotations, Sam. It was not a game."

"Cas -"

"I take the relationship between Dean and me very seriously," Cas continued, like Sam hadn't even spoken. His blue eyes were very, very hard. "Your brother did not get to have a childhood. He was asked to be a parent to you instead."

Sam opened his mouth, but this time he didn't even get a chance to speak.

" _You will listen to me_ , Samuel Winchester. Dean took that role gladly, with very little protest, as you know. It was never an issue until Dean returned from hell. You of all people should understand how he suffered, but unlike you, Dean did not have anyone to turn to when he was brought back. He had no one to offer him the support he needed. He had very few positive memories to counteract the damage done to him, and as he was my charge I took it upon myself to give him some. I have watched humanity for a very long time, and I knew that Dean needed innocence in his life, memories that were not influenced by alcohol or sex."

"Bobby and I were there," Sam objected, finally getting a word in. He was a little offended at the suggestion that he hadn't tried to help Dean. He'd lost count of how many times he'd begged his brother to talk, only to be shot down.

"Yes, but you were also concerned with the apocalypse. Furthermore, you know better than anyone that Dean would never burden you with his problems unless he absolutely had to," said Cas, which was all true. "Dean was breaking. He needed help. I offered him a solution."

"I'm guessing that's where... _that_ came in?" Sam asked, jerking his chin in the direction of the bedrooms.

"There is nothing wrong with it," Cas practically hissed. It sounded like something he had said many times before. "It is a way for me to offer Dean all of the love and affection he desperately needs, while also giving him rules and structure. When he is a bad boy, he is punished. But he is always told that he is loved, and that he is good, and once the punishment is over that is the end of it."

It sounded incredibly weird, but Sam was tactful enough not to say as much. "So what, for the past five years you've been acting like Dean's... daddy?"

"You do not have to accept it," came the stiff response. "It was meant to be private, and I have had to reassure Dean numerous times over the years that you would not find out." He looked away. "We have not been able to scene for some time, and Dean has been pushed to his limits. What happened tonight was his breaking point. He slipped into his little headspace, but someone that young is not equipped to deal with... everything."

"So he had a breakdown," Sam said slowly, trying to wrap his mind around this. 

"Exactly. Your choice of punishment was the last straw."

Sam ran a hand through his hair and let his breath out in a long sigh. He still had a lot of questions. Just how young was Dean supposed to be? What did the two of them even _do_ during a scene? Cas had said it wasn't sexual, so did they sit around coloring? Playing with blocks? Drinking from a bottle? He made a face. Just how exactly did this work? But he didn't ask. It was, as Cas said, none of his business, and he probably would never have found out if it weren't for what happened tonight. 

"Dean thought he could handle it without slipping," he muttered. "Didn't he?"

Cas nodded. Some of the anger had faded, and now he looked tired. "I have managed to lull him to sleep, but it will probably be some time before he is ready to be an adult again. This was very traumatizing for him."

"That's fine," Sam said. He needed the time to figure out how to assimilate this new information and do some research now that he had a clearer idea of what was going on. "I'll steer clear of Dean's bedroom. You guys... do whatever you need to do."

"Sam."

He looked up. Cas had risen, and now he was looming over Sam. There was no other word for it. 

"I understand you and your brother are having problems right now, but let me be perfectly clear. If you ever take it upon yourself to punish Dean in such a matter again, no matter what the circumstances, I will take double the punishment out on _your_ backside. Do you understand?"

The tone of voice, so stern, instantly made Sam feel like a little kid. "Yes," he squeaked.

"Good. You have done enough researching for the night. Go to bed."

"Okay," Sam said, agreement spilling out automatically. When Cas just stood there and looked at him, it took him a few seconds to realize what the angel was waiting for. He fumbled as he closed the book and stood up, walking out of the room. Cas followed him all the way back to his bedroom and even closed the door after saying good night, and one thing was for sure: it was suddenly a hell of a lot easier to see the angel as a parent.

Sam fell asleep surprisingly quickly that night, and he didn't wake up until almost noon the next day. He didn't see any sign of Dean or Cas for the next three days. Once or twice he was tempted to venture near Dean's room and see if he could hear what was going on, but he restrained himself. For one thing the bunker's soundproofing was excellent, which meant he would have to risk being noticed by Cas before he got close enough to hear anything, and for another he wasn't sure he was ready to see or hear Dean acting like a child. 

He used those three days to do a lot of research - and for once, it wasn't about the supernatural. What Dean and Cas did wasn't nearly as strange or unique as he'd initially thought. It turned out there was quite a bit of information about it online. Sam browsed through quite a few of the sites, even delving into a couple of the forums to read about first-hand accounts. He wanted to know enough about this secret side of his brother that he would never risk provoking another breakdown in Dean.

That wasn't to say he still didn't find it a little weird, because the last thing Sam could ever see himself doing was acting like a little kid for someone who wanted to be his mommy or daddy, but if it worked for Dean... well, anything that kept his brother stable and away from the alcohol could only be a good thing. There were times when Sam was certain that alcohol would be what killed Dean, not a hunt. And clearly, if it had been going on for this long, something about their arrangement had to be making Dean happy. 

Or at least it had before everything in their lives went to shit.

On the fourth morning, Sam was in the kitchen making himself breakfast when he turned around with the eggs in his hand and saw Dean. His brother was standing in the doorway dressed in his bathrobe and looking very uncomfortable. Sam made eye contact, or tried to since Dean seemed to be set on staring at the floor, as he placed the eggs on the counter, relieved to see that Dean seemed to be a hell of a lot steadier than he had the last time Sam saw him. It was hard to tell the state of his arms thanks to the bathrobe, but Sam was willing to bet that an angel might have healed the wounds up already.

"Hi," Sam said, clearing his throat and breaking the awkward silence. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

Dean didn't really _sound_ fine. Sam chewed on his lower lip in indecision and then sighed. "Look man, I'm sorry for putting that on you in the first place. I was pissed off and I brought up something that I had no business bringing up. I have no idea why you agreed to it."

"You were pissed," Dean said to the floor. 

"Yeah, but this is - that was -" Sam didn't even have words to describe it. "Dean, I know you wanna make things right between us. But that's not the way to do it. You really think I feel better about this now knowing that I drove you to have a breakdown? I'm not that kind of person."

"I didn't have a breakdown!" Dean snapped, finally looking up. His shoulders were hunched defensively. 

"You pretty much did," Sam said wearily, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms. "I don't care what happens between you and Cas. I really don't. Whatever makes you happy is fine. But you can't let me cross lines that I don't even know exist like that, Dean. It's not fair to either one of us. I don't know what I would have done if Cas hadn't been nearby."

For that, Dean didn't seem to have an answer. 

"I'm still mad at you," Sam went on, because he felt like he needed to make that clear. He did feel guilty, but that didn't magically erase what Dean had done. As far as Sam was concerned, things wouldn't be resolved until Dean figured out that Sam was capable of making his own choices. He wasn't the one who needed a parent. "This didn't change that."

It was hard to watch the way Dean's expression crumbled. He opened his mouth and then closed it, suddenly looking very vulnerable, and Sam froze because _oh shit_ it was happening again. But before he could panic too much, Cas appeared. He had to have been standing nearby listening, and evidently he could sense the change in Dean just as well as, if not better than, Sam. He gently took hold of Dean's wrist, not pulling, but firm.

Dean hesitated. "Sammy..."

"Just go, Dean," Sam said tiredly, not without selfish motives. Now that he was sure his brother was okay, he needed some space. They both did. Dean clearly wasn't all there yet, and if he was being honest neither was Sam. A little time apart, even if their methods of recuperating were radically different, would do them both some good.

Cas's grip tightened a little and he did pull Dean away then, one arm lifting to wrap around Dean's shoulders as they stepped out of sight. Sam didn't watch them go; he did his best to put his brother and their angel out of his mind for at least a little while and went back to making himself an omelet.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me at [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


End file.
